Chapter 19 – Ellie
For days after, I can’t believe what my life has turned into. Everything seems to be a lie, even my relationship with Mike. It was orchestrated from the beginning.
But I refuse to be manipulated again. Every moment, every decision that brought me close to Mike—I need to know if any of it was real, or just a chess piece in someone else’s game.
For the next few days, I dive into the financial data myself, fingers flying over the keyboard from morning to evening, tracing transfers, cross-referencing shell corporations and research grants.
My analytical skills, polished in the lab, suddenly become weapons in a different kind of battlefield.
Every number, every anomaly, every subtle pattern whispers a story.
The deeper I dig, the clearer the pattern becomes. The syndicate funding my work isn’t just interested in biotech—they’re after something far more consequential. And the moment I see it, the pieces snap into place.
Years ago, I created a predictive logistics optimization system I named ARGO—a modeling engine capable of analyzing massive datasets to determine the most efficient ways to move goods, people, and resources across the world. Almost like a supercharged, omniscient supply-chain intelligence system.
I remember showing it to my mentor, Professor Blythe.
He praised the ingenuity but warned me in no uncertain terms: I was sitting on a bomb.
In the wrong hands, it could be catastrophic.
I saved the system, carefully tucked it away, letting it lie dormant.
I had plans for it in the future, but for the moment, it was just mine. Until now.
And now it’s obvious—they want ARGO.
Samantha worked with me on it, along with a small team of data engineers, programmers, and logistics analysts.
On top of my forensic knowledge, I’m a programmer, too, so it was light work.
ARGO is my brainchild. I’m the architect of the algorithm.
And they’ve been circling, waiting for the right moment to claim it.
A surge of anger and clarity floods me. This isn’t just about betrayal or surveillance—it’s about power. And I won’t let them take what I built, not when I know exactly what they want and how to stop them.
I realize this was never just about Mike. It was about my work. The thought hits me like ice, and a shiver runs down my spine. Horror and disbelief mix with fury, and I march out of the security room without another word, striding into Mike’s office.
He’s bent over his laptop when I enter, but the moment he sees me, his face lights up in a smile—then it falters the instant he registers my expression.
“What is it?” he asks, voice cautious.
I take a breath, steadying the rage and fear simmering inside me. “Whoever engineered that meeting…it wasn’t random. They were trying to gain access to my algorithms. Through marriage, coercion…whatever it took.”
His brows furrow. “Which algorithms?”
The name slips out before I can stop it. “ARGO. My predictive logistics system.”
When he still looks confused, it dawns on me that I’ve never told him about it. I do now. I tell him about my work, when I created it, and what it does.
His eyes widen slightly, but then pride flickers beneath the concern. “You’re brilliant, Ellie. I see why they’d want it. A gold mine like that…it can predict disruption before it happens, identify the safest smuggling routes. You’re…you’re so fucking smart.”
Heat rises in my cheeks. “Mike, please. Concentrate.”
He grins, that mischievous glint returning. “How am I supposed to concentrate when you just turned me on with your intelligence?”
Before I can respond, he steps around the table, closing the distance between us.
His hands find my waist, and then his lips crash against mine.
It’s hungry, claiming, full of tension and unspoken words.
My hands instinctively curl into his shirt, holding on as the world outside fades to nothing but this—this kiss, this moment, this raw connection between us.
Mike pulls back just an inch, his forehead resting against mine, his breath hitching. “I need you now. Please, sweetheart.”
He doesn’t need to plead. The moment he touches me, my body lights up like a fuse has been lit.
He spins me around, pinning me against the wall with the solid weight of his body.
I gasp as the cool surface meets my front, but the sensation is immediately drowned out by the heat of him behind me.
He trails searing, open-mouthed kisses up and down the sensitive column of my neck, his stubble grazing my skin and making me shiver.
His hand sneaks to the hem of my dress, dragging the fabric up my thighs. I writhe against the wall, my breath coming in short, jagged bursts as his palm finds the bare skin of my hip. He’s marking me with his touch, his mouth finding the sweet spot behind my ear as he groans low in his throat.
“You’re so responsive for me, Ellie,” he murmurs, his hand moving higher, fingers brushing against the lace of my panties. “Always so ready.”
I moan, my head dropping forward against the wall as the friction of his body against my back drives me toward the edge.
I can feel his erection pressing hard against my glutes, a steady, pulsing reminder of exactly how much he wants me.
I’m melting, my legs growing weak as he continues to tease and torture me with his lips and hands, claiming every inch of my skin as his own.
He pins me tighter against the wall, his chest broad and solid against my back. He leans down, his mouth inches from my ear, his voice dropping to a dark, gravelly register that vibrates through my entire body.
“Ellie,” he rasps, his breath hot and demanding. “Do you want this too?”
“Yes,” I breathe, the word coming out as a broken, desperate plea. “Yes, please.”
“Fuck,” he growls.
The sound of his zipper being jerked down with one hand echoes in the quiet room—a sharp, metallic snap of finality. At the same time, his other hand hooks into the waistband of my panties, dragging them down my legs until they hit the floor.
He doesn’t wait. He grabs my hips, his grip bruisingly firm, and enters me in one fluid, powerful motion. I cry out, my palms flat against the wall as he fills me completely, his length stretching me until I’m certain I can’t take any more.
He doesn’t give me time to adjust. He starts a relentless, driving pace, his hips slamming against mine with a rhythmic thud.
As he moves, he leans in close again, his lips brushing against my earlobe as he begins to whisper dirty things—promises of what he’s going to do to me, descriptions of how tight I feel around him, and exactly how much he’s been thinking about this moment.
The combination of his raw, physical power and the filthy, possessive words pouring from his mouth is sensory overload.
My head thrashes against the wall, my eyes fluttering shut as the friction builds into a blinding heat.
He’s taking me right there against the wall, claiming me with a savage intensity that tells me he won’t stop until we’re both completely undone.
He grinds his thumb against my clit, pinning me harder against the wall, while his body drives into mine with a primal, rhythmic violence.
“I’m close, Mike,” I sob, my forehead pressed hard against the wall, my fingers clawing at the surface for any kind of relief or friction. “I’m—”
“Take it, Ellie,” he growls, his voice a raw, animalistic sound. “Come for me. Now!”
His command is the spark that sets off the powder keg.
I shatter, my body spasming as a violent orgasm rips through me, my internal muscles clenching around him in wave after wave of desperate pleasure.
I cry out his name, the sound echoing off the walls, and just as I hit the peak, I feel him stiffen behind me.
He lets out a guttural, soul-deep roar, his fingers digging into my hips as he thrusts one last time, buried as deep as he can possibly go. I feel the hot, rhythmic pulse of his release filling me, his heart thundering against my back like a trapped bird.
We stay like that for several long moments, pinned together against the wall, gasping for air in the sudden, heavy silence. The only sound is the frantic rhythm of our breathing as the world slowly slides back into focus, leaving us both tangled, shaken, and completely spent.
“Should we go to bed?” he murmurs, flipping me around and pressing a soft kiss to my nose.
I pull back slightly, laughing, breathless. “Mike, weren’t you listening to everything I just told you?”
He sighs, a mix of exasperation and tenderness in his eyes. “That’s all we’ve been talking about these days. Can we just…spend time together?”
I can’t say no. I shake my head, letting a smile curl on my lips. “Okay.”
He grins, then effortlessly lifts me into his arms. I laugh again, the sound light and free, as he carries me toward the bedroom, every worry and danger from the outside world momentarily melting away.
We spend the entire evening and night whispering tender words and making love to each other, finally falling asleep sometime around one a.m.
But we don’t sleep for long.
Midway through the night, an alarm blares, sharp and insistent.
Before I can fully come awake, Mike is instantly on his feet, hauling me up with him. “Let’s move!” he hisses. “That sound…it means the estate’s outer perimeter has been breached. I’ll get you to safety. Come on.”
We throw on our clothes in a frenzy, heartbeats thundering. Before we can even reach the door, Timofey bursts in, eyes wide and serious.
“It’s not an enemy attack,” he says quickly, catching his breath. “It’s…law enforcement. Federal units have surrounded the property. Someone tipped them off.”
I freeze, a chill crawling up my spine.
Mike’s jaw tightens, fury flashing in his eyes. “Who?”
Timofey sighs hard. “I don’t know…but the warrant—it carries Ellie’s name at the top.”
What the hell?